Transpose: Time
by Dodectron
Summary: What can you do when your world is changing beneath your feet? Crawl into a ball and die, or hit the ground running? This is the story of Emilia, the girl that is fated to do more than die in this life. Permanent Hiatus, being rewritten on same account.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey to new readers, hey to old ones. Not referring to age, but hopefully you got that anyway. So this is a story that's been in the works for- wait for it- nearly a year now. It's the best thing I've ever written, and I've decided to share it with you all. I'm rewriting it as I post it, possibly causing delays, and I'm going into year 12 as well. It'll be fun to try and juggle this along with everything else... so enjoy this first chapter. I know that I did.**

**Rated T for bloodshed and violence later.**

_Hello ladies and gentleman, I am Emilia Freig, and I will be your narrator this story._

_Well, the story is really about myself and how I had this incredible adventure with people that I had no right to meet or be friends with. Not really narcissistic, is it? I just really... I really want to tell you all, or any person who opens this journal, about what happened to me._

_Something incredible happened. I was taken- no, I won't say just yet. I like a good story. Might as well drag this out for as long as possible._

_Uh, yeah. Anyway._

_This is a bit of a forenote to you guys- you might not be interested in my little journey of self-discovery. If so, then go away. I'm not interested in people that'll run at the first sign of intelligent life. If you wanna keep reading, then go ahead and read. No prizes for finishing, though you might like to see through my eyes for a little while and escape your personal lives. If you're into escapism._

_Everything began at school, oddly enough. Our hall is basically the same you'd find in any Australian school- and some American ones, though America won't be part of this story. I'm an Aussie, you see. Born and bred in the sunburnt country. An assembly was called and we were all 'summoned' as a great wave of chattering kids. The teachers probably hated every second they had to force us to behave, but most didn't show it. I was in year 7, the first year after Primary school. That means I'm in High School, for anyone who isn't familiar with our schooling system._

It wasn't the ordinary assembly, which happened once every week. That assembly was often short-notice, since organisation was handled so badly by our teachers. The 'official' assembly had been held yesterday; Monday. The lack of backbone amongst our teachers didn't help our rowdy behaviour as we all crushed into the Hall, eager to waste time rather than waste mind. See what I did there?

Well you're a smart beggar, aren't you?

So when everyone was sitting in their uncomfortable plastic chairs, we were lectured on how we should all be wearing our complete school uniforms and, as a passing note that our principal wouldn't be coming back. We were all taken rather off guard by that, so everyone fell silent for a moment as the news sank in.

Then, everyone began talking at once.

"Gone? Where?"

"He was gone? I didn't notice..."

"What happened?"

The supervising teachers looked fairly surprised as well, but they despised chatter and hushed the youngest kids with the hope that the seniors would follow suit.

I was in year 7, the first year in high school. The basic rule of school for year 7 kids was that we were timid, easily herded and mouldable. I was the exception to that rule. To be honest, I had never been the smartest or the most obedient of children; I liked to be rebellious, and the frustration of a teacher that couldn't keep me under control was addicting. I gave my sweetest smile to turn the nearest sentinel's head away, but still whispered to my close friend.

"Our principal was Mr. Kimbley, wasn't he?" I asked Jack, the guy beside me. We had been best friends since childhood. I knew every side of his personality, especially the troublemaker hidden under his peaceable smile. His mother and mine were friends since before we were born, which was why we had known each other for so long.

He glanced around and nodded. "Yeah. Of course, you'd know that if you ever took the blame for some of our pranks. We knew each other too well," he said with distaste.

"Oops," I giggled.

"It's sort of weird, though. I wonder why he went away?" Jack pondered. "Yeah. Maybe he's sick of seeing you every day," I mused.

There was a small commotion up on the stage. Everyone tried to crane over each other's head to get a better look, making a sort of Mexican wave as people in the back rows stood on their chairs unabashedly. "Sit down," hissed one of the more active teachers, flapping his hands like a panicked chicken. We ignored him, of course.

A gorgeous woman, platinum-blonde curls framing a stern expression, and a tight red dress that showed off pale shaved legs; she floated up to the stage, trailing a cloud of silence behind her. I felt myself swallow without meaning to. Every person in the hall stopped chattering.

There was a faint glow around the woman, as if she was in some way divine. It was really… freaking weird. Jack was openly staring.

"Thank you," she said crisply into the microphone. There was some scattered feedback from the speakers. Absolutely no-one made a sound.

She straightened her shiny red dress and smiled a cold grin. Her eyes and teeth somehow reminded me of a shark.

"Thank you," she repeated. "I am Ms Pond- but of course, you may all call me Serenity in times of informality. However, I expect every student and teacher to use my surname when addressing me within school hours."

"Wh… wha?" I stuttered. Jack turned to look at me, and I flinched back from his cold eyes.

The hell?


	2. Chapter 2

**A new chapter so soon! Due to popular demand, I'll be posting these as fast as I can write them. Reviews are welcome because I like hearing things other than the sound of my own voice ;) And thank you to all of my readers so far- especially the two that have put my story on Alert.**

_Things just got worse from there._

Jack seemed to get better when we were outside, blinking in the bright sunlight. "Oooh. I think I've got a headache," he said in surprise. He tenderly massaged his head while I watched with concern. "Do you need a drink?" I asked.

"…Nah. Hey, what happened in there? I think I blacked out for a sec," he said suddenly.

"Nothing much. The new Principal is creepy as hell, and she's seriously strict," I answered. We sat on one of the chairs beneath the courtyard's big tree and took out our lunch.

"I think I might have said something nasty. I'm sorry, Emmie," he said sincerely. I grinned and patted him on the back. "You didn't say anything bad… but you should probably get more sleep if you're going to black out like that in assembly."

The rules changed literally overnight. We were forced to wear our school uniforms entirely correctly or be stuck in detention for a week. The weeks piled up pretty fast, so people rushed to fix their clothes beforehand. The result was a sea of sameness- my first attempt to bring a little colour to the school was met with a visit to the principal.

I didn't really mean to drop paintbombs on everyone… not really…

Hehehe.

So I was made to go and visit her. I felt oddly frightened on the way up to her office, so I dragged my feet and arrived about ten minutes after I had been sent for. I think it just made her angrier.

Her office had been renovated very quickly, made to be bigger and more futuristic. A really odd psychiatrist-style bench that glowed was tucked away in the corner, and it gave me electric chills as I walked past. The windows were angled to watch over the pavement that led into the front office. The more rebellious students liked to joke about her spying on people as they entered the school, like a vampire. I swallowed involuntarily.

"Well, well…" someone whispered behind me. I started to face the voice before I could control myself and made Ms Pond very happy. Her blood-red lips curved in a smug smile as she strode past me and sat at a heavy wooden desk. The wood was carved with angels and dolphins, the dark material in soft folds and curves as if alive.

I liked that desk.

"Miss Emilia Freig, is it not?" Ms Pond asked sweetly.

"Yes."

Her top lip curled up, reminding me of a writhing worm. "Don't you dare speak to me in that manner. I am the Principal of this school, and I will not have students disrespecting me!"

I didn't know what to say to that, so I tried to look humble and chastised. It didn't fool her for a second.

"…So. You're the resident troublemaker, are you? That one student that refuses to conform," she muttered, apparently ignoring me. "I can see where you'll go already. Which is to say, nowhere. You'll be the pathetic bum on the streets, unable to rescue yourself or be rescued from an early death. Well, I don't see why I should be the one to finish it; it will be amusing to watch you fail of your own accord. Back to class, Miss Frieg."

Wow.

So yeah, that's my principal, folks. So much for helping students to grow and whatnot- apparently I was gutter trash and would become a hobo, mooching off everyone I know. It actually hurt a little bit, since I consider moochers to be one of the lowest forms of life. Aussies might be lazy when we can, but like everyone else, we like to be useful and constructive during our lives.

We were always told that teachers were here to help us. Something like a film was unwrapped from my eyes that day- I looked at everything in a new light.

A bit corny... but true. You'd be surprised what you can notice when you really pay attention.

When I told Jacky about her, he was surprised, but didn't seem upset about it. He sort of smiled when he mentioned Ms Pond, and he would snap at me if I said anything uncouth about her. It was scary, just how different he seemed. I was tempted to shake him by the nape of his neck until some sense came back, but... I don't know. I was feeling odd, sort of apathetic about school. My life at home wasn't anything special, and I didn't have any brothers or sisters to confide in. Don't even mention my parents. They stopped listening to me the moment they started working for the big Abstergo company.

I was feeling trapped, cornered in my own life. I didn't have anyone I could reach out to. If I was a dog or something, I'd be huddling under something, confused and upset by everything around me.

In his rare, somewhat lucid moments (the times when he was at his most rebellious and normal self) Jacky would look frightened. He'd pull me away from everyone else and say "Just keep your head down, Emmy. Don't let them-"but then he'd cut himself off and let go of me as if I was covered with something gross. It was bewildering, until I noticed that he was like this after a weekend or at any time that he'd spent a few days away from school.

This made me look around with new eyes.

Everyone was the same. They all were dull-eyed, obedient as hell. No-one made any kind of trouble, aside from me. That made me a great target for the teachers, a good dummy they could hit with any kind of punishment as an 'example' to everyone else. It made me upset, but I held it in and did my best to look as stupid as everyone else when the principal was around. She was the worst of them all, the head honcho of this freaky blanket of silence over the school.

The frustration and humiliation built up inside of me, welling like the water of a fountain but bubbling as if at boiling point. Finally, I just threw my pencil across the room and laughed when it bounced off of the math teacher's head, clattering to the floor in a sudden hush over my studious classmates. The teacher slowly looked at me, no expression on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is a little bit longer- expect it to be a few days before the next chappie is finished. Thanks to my reviewer and the three people that have put Transpose Time on alert. If you have spare time, please visit this image that I made yesterday: http:/ /albums/s93/CanteringCane **

**Just minus the spaces. If the link doesn't work, PM me and I'll send it to you. Enjoy **

_I felt something inside of me drop to my shoes- my heart?_

It was like a scene from a horror movie. I backed up slightly in my chair when he stepped towards me, chalk held in one hand like one would hold a spear.

Someone knocked on the door- the teacher completely forgot me and answered it meekly.

A guy walked in, probably a few years older than the teacher. He looked over the class and for some reason looked disgusted, curling his top lip like a pro. I felt a weird thrill when he looked at me- and the disgust disappeared at the sight of me, a tiny smile on his face. Then he looked away, and that weird feeling flew out the window.

Some kid followed him in, and he was powerfully interesting as well. He was taller than me, though that's not saying much, and he had this coal-black hair that sort of curled on his head but still grew out straight. He was fairly pale and his eyes were a cold brown, like the snowgums in the Snowy Mountains. A constant smirk was on his face and I suddenly wanted to slap it off, irritated by his apparent arrogance.

He stayed silent until the teacher introduced him as Conor Griffin- the first word of his name was pronounced weirdly, more like 'Coh-nore' than the traditional 'Coe-nuh'.

"Hello, everyone, I'm Conor," the boy said quietly. He glanced over everyone in the room, much like his father (I assumed he was his father, anyway- they looked quite alike) had done. The apathetic expressions on my classmate's faces seemed to make him amused, but like his father had done, Conor's eyes rested on me. The smirk disappeared and was replaced by cold determination. This thrill wasn't anything like before- it felt like danger, but at the same time, like intrigue. I wanted to know. What I wanted to know wasn't important, I just needed to know.

"Well, then. You guys won't notice me, I'm not important," he said with a grin; were those teeth in points? "Just go along with your everyday business and don't get in my way, okay?"

And the weirdest thing happened. Everyone nodded and suddenly glazed over, ignoring him.

Conor focused back on me. I involuntarily swallowed.

Then he went to sit in the back row and I was freed from the sensation of being pulled in and out at the same time. As if I was being pulled to pieces...

"Hey. What's your name?"

I jumped and slopped half of the stuff in my soggy sandwich down my front. Thankfully it was all dry chicken and lettuce, but I blushed furiously as the new kid laughed his head off at the sight of me picking the stuff out of my jumper. "Emilia. You're Connor, right?" I snapped at him. His laugh disappeared quickly.

"That's COH-NORE. Conor. And I guess it's nice to meet you, whatever. So wanna tell me what's up with this school?" He sat next to me, uncomfortably close, and pretended to be helping me fix myself up as the supervising teacher slowly walked past. I slapped his hands away from my chest and shoved him to the ground, ignoring the querying looks of the sheep nearby. "Keep your hands off me, you douche," I said angrily. Something about his attitude just pissed me off!

"Calm down, princess," he shot back, just as smug as ever. He brushed the dust from his uniform and flashed that never-ending smirk at me again. "I'm not going anywhere, and something tells me that you wouldn't want me to go, anyway. Just don't do something stupid like that again... you're drawing way too much attention to yourself," he chastised me.

Wait... he felt it, too? He noticed how everyone seemed to be fading into conformity?

I eyed him mistrustfully. How could I know if he was going to go away, too? Conor might act all tough now, but the fog over the school would get into his head, too. For that matter, why hadn't it happened to me yet?

He sat next to me again, but a little further away. He was probably afraid to get hit again. I giggled and buried my fixed sandwich in my mouth to disguise the sound; I don't think it fooled him, but he didn't seem to care, either.

"So what do you think is up with this place? And don't play dumb, I know that you've sensed something," Conor asked in a low, secretive voice. I stopped eating.

Could I tell him? Was it safe to talk to him? For all I knew, Ms Pond was doing this to spy out the opposition in the school. Maybe I should leave this alone, for my own safety. I looked over at him and found him staring at me. His dark brown eyes were intriguing, more in the sense that they were so dark and expressionless than in an '' way.

Heh. No spelling suggestions. Looks like I broke Word.

And yes, I am writing this with a laptop. I don't like writing on paper. It could so easily be accessed... but that can wait for another time.

I felt sort of like I shouldn't. It was that feeling again, being pulled in one direction but being held in the same place. Between a rock and a hard place, or more like between a wild horse and a titanium chain. I could see some dark hairs on his chin. I had no idea why that struck me as it did, but I felt myself give in and let out what I was thinking.

"I think... this place has been taken over by aliens!"

His face didn't fall, didn't lighten up. He just stared at me, looking faintly disapproving. "...Really."

It was awkward. "...Uh. Yeah. And, um, and Ms. Pond- our principal- is the head of them! Everything was normal before she came!"

Conor looked more interested now.

Our lunch went by quickly, now that we were both on a subject that we could talk about comfortably. Apparently Conor understood how I felt, aside from the 'aliens' thing. He agreed with there being some sort of conspiracy, though I myself could barely understand why or how something like that would happen to _my_ school of all places. He discouraged me from being too outspoken in class or during breaks, as that would bring attention to myself. I agreed readily- I felt too nervous and shaky to attempt anything big for a while, anyway.

He was a godsend. I had someone that wasn't under some sort of spell to talk to, someone that didn't ignore me and throw me away.

I might be a bit bitter about my parents. Just a little.

"...So you think that aliens are using an invisible ray beam- from space, no less- to control every living thing in this school and the ray beam doesn't affect you for no apparent reason," Conor stated flatly. Something I'd noticed over the past half-hour was just how moody this guy was. He flicked from happy to depressed or cynical in a heartbeat.

"Well, um... you have to admit that there's nothing proving otherwise, right? I mean, something weird is going on, and I see no evidence to the contrary," I blustered, face going bright red.

He did something that startled me; Conor patted me on the shoulder sympathetically. Then, as I was still registering his fiftieth mood change, he up and left me as the bell for the end of lunch rang.

"Don't worry about anything, Emilia. We'll work it out together," Conor called over his shoulder. After all of his snootiness about being quiet and stealthy, I wanted to throw him into something as some nearby kids glanced at him emptily. He snickered at my expression and jogged from the courtyard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Next chapter. We learn a little more about the mysterious 'Conor' and a couple of other things that you'll find out when you read on. Thank you to my reviewer, Diamond1502 and to the three people that put this story on Alert. Trust me, there's a whole lot more story to go...**

_Though I must admit... it felt good to be reassured like that. His lack of fear made me feel fearless, too. I even felt brave enough to push over one of the more soppish losers that were teacher's pets before all of this had started._

His smug attitude drove me up the wall, but I found myself listening to everything he said. It was sort of inspiring and conspiratorial at the same time. He seemed to disappear some days, returning with inexplicable bruises or cuts and refusing to tell me what had happened to him. I annoyed him as best I could, but apparently Conor was oblivious to various references to Nyan Cat or the Duck song.

I occasionally found him leaving the principal's office, though I _knew_ that Pond was on the other side of the school; so how and why did he get inside of that stinkhole? He would always wink at me and disappear into a sudden rush of seniors, struggling to get to the bubblers after a difficult P.E. session (some things never change.) All of these things made me powerfully curious.

Aside from the dehydrated seniors. Those lazy sods.

Anyways, I only got one bit of information out of him. He was busy tearing into a sandwich, hungry as always after whatever he'd done on the weekend. I casually sat next to him and nearly shoved him over as I set my backpack down. "Oops."

He stuck his tongue out at me.

"So where are you from? You've got a bit of an accent, though I can't tell what it is. And you just don't seem Australian," I mused whilst staring at him.

To my surprise, he grinned and answered in the way that he had when I had asked something intelligent. "Nusquam. You wouldn't have heard of it, it's a really small country. Up in Europe."

"Oh… what's it like there?" I asked, swinging my legs and beating a rhythm on the ground.

Conor paused and looked over at the single tree beside the school. It was looking rather sad and wilted, as we were approaching winter. "…Quiet. Not very peaceful, but then, life wouldn't be living if it was easy."

I raised an eyebrow in a questioning way. He decided to ignore me and didn't speak to me again for the rest of the day.

_My parents were employees of Abstergo, a company that manufactured medicines and a few other technological things. Most of it was beyond my intelligence, but I sometimes found them working over a complicated mess of wires or blueprints to some sort of mechanical blood scanner. I was never allowed to get too close and read the smallprint, but I had a bad feeling about it all the same._

_They loved me. They said that they loved me. I just… didn't feel it. I felt like they were shutting me out of their lives, only emerging from their jobs to give me food and water before submerging into cold indifference again._

_I never had the chance to tell them what was going on. Sometimes I wonder if that would have been a good idea, anyway. Abstergo is where it all started._

_Being a child, I never had the ability to make a difference in the world. I couldn't tell anyone about my school and what was going on, and if I did reveal it, people would ignore me. It was beyond frustrating. My anger rose and heated up until I couldn't take it anymore. That's why I did what I did. I never meant to hurt anyone._

_I mean, who would be stupid enough to do what I did without claiming insanity or coercement?_

"Oi, Emm. Emilia."

I jumped and dropped my pencil.

Math class, again. My teacher just ignored me now, bored of trying to make me conform to empty-headedness. I had been doodling something- not idea what, even I couldn't find any meaning in it- when Conor interrupted my mindless daydreaming.

"_What?_" I whispered harshly.

He leant onto my desk, halving the amount of space that was left for my book. That irritating smirk was on his face again, so I jabbed him in the side until he pulled back. I knew him well enough now to be confident in causing him injury. If that makes any sense.

Conor beckoned me closer, though he didn't dare to try and steal my desk again. He sat at the desk next to mine now, having stolen in from Jacky. It still hurt to remember how Jacky quite eagerly gave his place up, unhappy with being friends with the only troublemaker left. I hid my mixed feelings and leaned towards him.

Great. Now we look like conspirators.

Not that anyone noticed.

"Hey, you remember when I said we'd solve the mystery together?" he asked me very quietly. I nodded. My heart rose into my mouth as I realized that he was about to fulfil his promise. Yes! We could finally stop this from happening! Not that I cared about my classmates or anything, hehehe.

"I thought you should come to a meeting with me and some friends. The gig's at Abstergo, near the warehouses. Can you make it?" he asked urgently.

The warehouses? What kind of meeting would be going on there?

"'Course I can. Abstergo isn't exactly a secret organisation, you know," I said waspishly, rolling my eyes. "Oh, I forgot. You're a child genius or something," Conor sneered, completely back to normal.

"Hey, shut up. You're only good with history, I can beat you in everything else," I grumbled.

He ruffled my hair and went back to work before the teacher looked around and saw us chatting.

Before we left for the last class, Conor wrote a message and left it on my desk. _'8:30 at the KFC near the meeting. Don't be late.'_ I screwed up the message after reading it, feeling oddly furtive in the shadow of the closed windows.


	5. Chapter 5

**A new chapter, so soon. You're all so lucky! If I get a few more reviews, I might just add another chapter even sooner than this one was. You know. Because I'm so into the community.**

**Uhehehe.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

_Little did I know… yeah._

_Er, that's not how it goes, but I'd betray the entire human race if I said that line. Ugh._

I took a bus to the stop closest to said KFC, using my pocket money rather than asking for cash from my parents. They wouldn't notice my being gone for a few hours, and I'd rather keep it that way.

The reason why I never went to KFC for anything hit me in the face as I walked into the restaurant; the invigorating scent of freshly-slaughtered chickens. Apparently the freshness is simply incomparable, but personally, I have trouble eating something when I can smell its blood wafting just over my head, spilled seconds before it was cooked for me.

That's how KFC gets by these days- its chips are still crappy, the chickens are killed _in_ the restaurant and most people forget to pick up their cans of soft drink. To all non-Australian visitors here, soft drink is also known as 'pop' or 'soda' in America. You know, Coca Cola or Lemonade.

I found Conor leaning on the door leading to the bathrooms. He was expressionless, but I could sense the eagerness just below that cold mask. The funny thing about Conor is that he may seem to be in a good mood, smirking or teasing people, but that is usually when he's most unhappy or distracted. He stays expressionless to hide just how much he's feeling in moments of great happiness or excitement. The cold expression broke into his meaningless grin and he grabbed my hand, looking a little relieved that I'd shown up.

"Emmy, come into here. I need to introduce you to some friends of mine," he muttered to me and dragged me into the waiting room between the Male, Female and Disabled bathrooms.

The bloody smell followed us in. Literally.

His friends turned out to be a gorgeous, tall, slender girl that simply dripped with jewels and a weird sort of glamour. She looked me over and seemed unimpressed, but smiled anyway. The other person was a really pale older man with a wicked black moustache and oddly patterned green clothes. He nodded in greeting at me and kept scratching at the tiled wall with a razor blade.

"These are my friends. It's probably safer if you don't know their names, since what we're doing tonight isn't exactly legal," Conor said quietly, though his voice still echoed about the room.

"W-wait, it's not legal? What happened to the meeting?" I asked dumbly. "You're looking at it," the girl said. "But…"

Conor seemed to ask his friends something with an expression I couldn't decipher. They nodded in agreement and he took me outside, ignoring an old couple that gasped as we rushed past them, indignant. I was pulled around the back of the KFC, where air conditioners heaved black stuff into the air. Wait, weren't old-style air conditioners banned in Australia?

Some weird law that was passed a few years ago. It was encouraged by the Carbon Tax that was implemented in 2011. Basically, the most filthy and useless technologies were disallowed. I screwed up my nose at the unfamiliar smell of toxic fumes.

Conor gripped my arm tightly; nearly painfully tightly, in fact. "Sorry, this is for your own good," he muttered when I winced. "Emilia, what we're doing is top-secret. You can't tell anyone about it or they'll- well, I can't be held responsible for whatever might happen to you," he said quietly.

"...Are you a criminal?" I asked in the same quiet voice.

He grinned at me- an expression I hadn't seen yet, it didn't quite fit on his face. Still, it was full of optimism and affection. I couldn't help smiling back.

"Only the best. And only ever for a good reason. You remember the weirdness of your school, yes? Well, that's not the only place where such a thing is happening. We're here to investigate what's going on, and you've proven yourself reliable enough to help. We need your help to sneak in, so will you do it for us?"

I looked down and nibbled on my nails- a bad habit. The idea was so wrong, but it felt so right! I wanted to help. I'd do anything if I could make Jacky look at me as a friend again.

"W-well... will I have to... hurt people?" I asked hesitantly.

He gave me a long look. I could feel several layers of meaning in that stare. "...Not if you do exactly as we say. I think we can avoid bloodshed."

"Then I'm in!" I burst out, probably surprising him as much as I surprised myself. "If it keeps my school from turning into the Spanish Inquisiton, I'm in all the way!"

He gave me a noogie, smirking in a proud sort of way as I struggled out of his grip. "That's my girl."


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, well, well. Six reviews! I'm impressed. Thank you to the people that have reviewed, and to the four 'alert' people. You guys are what keeps me posting chapters. Enjoy today's instalment!**

_So now you know how it began. Well, sort of. Well, not really... there's so much more in this than you, reader, could possibly imagine. And stop making those conspiracy theories. They're very distracting._

_I felt empty without my best friend by my side. I had Conor, I guess, but he was really unreliable and did weird things like breaking into warehouses and- well, you'll have to keep reading to find out what else. If I could save Jack from whatever had drained his spunk away, I would do it._

_To hell with Abstergo or Ms Pond. That witch has it coming- and if Abstergo has something to do with it all, they'll go down. I swear it._

The others were raring to go when we got back. I needed to change into darker clothes, which were provided by Conor's lady friend as we walked inside together. They fit perfectly. "I didn't think Conor would plan ahead and make you wear dark clothing, so I did it for him. These should do fine," she reassured me as I held them up warily. I grinned half-heartedly and changed in the bathroom- astonishingly, they fit perfectly.

Either the girl was a master fashion designer and could tell my size from a mere description of me, or Conor knew more about me than he should. Ever.

Man, I wanted to slap him.

The guy in green clothes fastidiously tidied himself up and strode off into the night, Conor shadowing his steps. I felt a thrill of nervousness and excitement, the adrenalin causing my arms and legs to shake uncontrollably.

"This way. Don't worry, we're experts," the girl whispered to me and lead me throw a little path between the trees, a gentle hand on my arm. The path led to the main door of the warehouse, and I was struck by the similarity of 'warehouse' and 'warhouse' as we crouched silently in the bushes off to the side of the driveway. I'm really just not built for stealth... or for excitement. It was all I could do to stop my teeth from chattering.

The girl seemed perfectly happy with waiting. I shivered, not only with excitement, but also from the cold. It felt like it was sinking into my bones and I tucked my hands under my arms in an effort to warm them up without making any noise.

How exactly had I been convinced to do this again?

A very low whistle came from the other side of the warehouse. "Ahh. I think the others got inside," the girl muttered under her breath. I tapped her on the shoulder and mimed zipping my mouth shut. She smirked and tapped me on the head. "Smartass."

The warehouse door shuddered and crunched, the sounds so loud that it felt impossible that anyone could stay asleep with it going on. The girl and I both froze. She was more frightened than she first appeared, I noticed.

The door grumbled like an old ute in the rain, raising only centimetres from the dusty ground. Two pairs of hands forced their way under its edge and forced it up bodily, the crunching sound way louder and more dangerous. I felt more wound up and tense with each crackle, the muscles in my legs contracting, ready to flee.

Conor's face appeared in the blackness below the door, white teeth dazzling in the bright moonlight. "We're in."

The girl beside me stood and slunk her way inside, not showing an iota of the fear I had sensed in her earlier. I set my jaw and copied her. There was no way I'd let myself lose to one of these people, even if I hardly knew them. Something about them set me on edge.

We were beckoned in more urgently and the door was slammed shut behind us, leaving our group in complete darkness. I could hear everyone's breathing, and it was definitely elevated. I wasn't breathing fast at all. Not me.

"All's clear for now. Let's find what those Templar idiots are hiding and get out of here," Conor ordered. For some reason, I felt compelled to do as he said and blindly reached towards the wall. Scuffles and curses when someone ran into something told me that the others were too.

"Oh for heaven's sake..." I could hear Conor mutter, and he must have pressed a switch, because the lights hummed into being and I could suddenly see that I was about a foot away from a shelf full of razor blades and swirly screws. I quickly dropped my hands and backed off from them. "We can't keep the light on for long. Get searching."

We couldn't find anything in the next ten minutes of light. Just boxes and boxes of Abstergocine and Anti-go, the kiddy version of Abstergo's infamous anti-depressants. I had to wonder why kids would need anti-depressants, but hey, maybe there was someone out there more messed up than I was.

Abstergocine was a really expensive medicine, though still not what we were apparently looking for. It actually healed small injuries like cuts or scrapes, along with supplying a big dose of painkillers. It was the kind of technology that had been springing up from Abstergo and some of its branch companies these past couple of years. I palmed a small bottle of Abstergocine and tried to look innocent when Conor's guy friend gave me a dirty look.

Conor himself wasn't satisfied. He kept looking, even after we had to turn the lights off again. Apparently the 'guards' rotated every couple of hours, giving us a window of ten minutes. They wouldn't hear us, probably, but a light would be a dead giveaway. I wonder how we are supposed to get out of here without alerting the guard?

Even with his tiny flashlight, the only one we'd thought to bring, I had a hard time keeping my eye on him as he ducked and weaved through the shelves desperately. Something was making him quite frantic about finding 'it'. My questions about what 'it' was, once again, didn't get me any answers.

"What are we looking for?" I whispered to Conor's woman friend. She glanced at the other guy, though he didn't help; he simply shrugged and pulled a small knife from his pocket, picking at imagined spots of dirt on its hilt.

"Do you know who we are?"

"You're Conor's friends."

"He definitely trusts you if he thought you could help us here. Wait a sec... Conor!" she shout-whispered. Conor looked over his shoulder with some irritation at being interrupted. "Can we tell her who we are?"

His face became set, though there was something about his eyes that spoke the word 'sorry' to me. Weird way of putting it, I guess, but that's what happened. "No. Not yet."

The girl made a non-committal shrug in my direction. "Sorry, Emilia, but he's the boss-man, not me."

"And guess what your boss-man just found?" Conor asked us triumphantly, because apparently he can teleport. He popped out of the darkness like a jack-in-the-box, scaring me half to death. He ignored me as I put a hand to my heart and glared at him. "This way."

He led us to a dimly-lit rectangle in the wall. I'd say it was ordinary concrete, but he'd been at it with a knife, gouging out that line and leaving lumps of plaster and a lot of dust all over the floor. Conor's guy friend sneezed and immediately looked abashed at his female friend's consternating look. He took out a small dustpan and brush from a little bag that was tied to his belt, removing the dust and plaster. Probably to hide the fact that someone had been at it. Apparently.

Conor and the girl dug their fingers into the line and heaved, sending puffs of grey dust everywhere and sending me into a coughing fit. Their faces seemed lit with a sort of rapture as the wall suddenly hummed and the rectangle sort of pushed _out_, as if something was hidden inside of it like a safe.

I felt a sudden foreboding.


	7. Chapter 7

**I know, I know. A pathetic chapter after nearly a week of waiting. But hey, I have my life too, you know. Anyways, I might just add another chapter after this to make up for the wait and lack of content in this one. Tell me if you'd like that and thanks to my reviewers. As always, you're the people that make me keep going.**

_I would like to take a moment to suggest that you take a break, have some tea, or whatever it is that people in your country do to relax. I would personally love a can of Solo right now, but I'm too busy writing this journal for you guys. Aren't I nice?_

_I would also like to say here that none of this was due to me. At all. It was all Conor's idea, and Ms Pond's fault._

_...Who am I kidding? Just keep reading, go on._

The square pushed _out_ and dust poured from around it, way too much for it to have all been made by the wall. Right? Anyway, the square was apparently a cube or rectangular prism, since it was a solid object about the size of a microwave. It was this beautiful dark blue stone, or something that felt like stone, with glowing blue and gold lines all down its sides. A bright blue square was cut into its top.

The thing hummed like it was alive in our hands, and everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and stroked it, momentarily losing themselves.

"What _is_ it?" I asked in a hushed voice, my eyes lit up by the otherworldly glow. My fingers trailed down one of its blunted edges and accidentally touched Conor's hand, making us both start. He stared at me for a moment before pulling away and walking off, activating something in his ear.

The guy that was with us began wiring up the weird box with lots of equipment that somehow fit into his little carrying-bag, the box pulsating in response to commands he typed into a portable keyboard. The girl simply laid her hands on the box and hummed deeply along with it, an eerie duet in the near-pitch black of the warehouse. I stood off a little, feeling really out of place.

"Link me in. We've found it," Conor announced. He waved a hand at us to stay where we were and strode out of earshot.

"It's so... beautiful. Like, mysterious. I wonder what this square..." I asked no-one in particular and found my hand drifting towards the box's top. I made a half-hearted attempt to pull my hand back, but it kept moving, skimming the icy warmth of the box's stone skin. "...Is for?"

My skin drifted over the square.

Suddenly the box's hum became a loud buzz as it sort of... booted up. The same way my crappy PC does at home, the light of the square dimmed and I felt my hand drop to my side as the sticky clinging sensation disappeared. I got exactly one footstep away before the box flashed brilliant gold-white, attracting my hand again, but with greater force than before. My palm was over the blue square in an instant, and it sent up tendrils of soft white light that spun around my wrist and fingers. The last thought in my head was- where is everyone? Why aren't they helping me?

But as my vision faded to black, I saw the blank, staring faces of my companions. A woman's laugh rang in my head and I knew no more.


	8. Chapter 8

**Well, I did promise. And someone did fave the story... so here, have a little smidgeon of fanfiction right here ^_^**

I am floating.

I was floating.

I don't understand... I am, yet I was and will be floating.

Why am I so obsessed with floating?

My eyes opened on a landscape of nothing- if nothing can be called a landscape. Black, white, neither of the two- more of a fuzzy grey. A static grey. The kind that exists behind your eyes when you're blinded by light, or the spazzy static on an old television set.

But yet again, it was none of those things while at the same time being all of them. What a cheeky world, not being a describable colour.

'_Emmmilliiaaaaaa.'_

The voice sighed past, floated on the wind and stroked my face with fingers as soft as brush-strokes.

I couldn't find my voice, but I had the feeling that the one who was speaking didn't want me to talk, anyway. It whispered around me, and my clothes fluttered as if a wind had blown through them.

'_It has been so long. So long... yet the traveller in time hasn't begun her voyage. You have seen the wolf, the flower, the blade- yet you have not. Emilia,'_ the voice said lovingly, passionately. I listened.

'_Emilia.'_

It felt as if time was passing, quickly and smoothly over my skin. I could feel myself changing under this flow, something almost tangible that made my bones shift, my skin mottle with darker colour and my hair writhe into a new shape and colour. I can't say how I know this, only that I could feel it happening, sense it with every particle of my being. It made me angry.

I had no say in my appearance, whether or not I was imagining this weird 'time flow'. No matter how I struggled to speak or to knock away those soft, torturing hands, I was ignored the same way you, my reader, would ignore a kid having a tantrum.

Makes me wonder how little kids stand being patronized like that.

'_Emilia.'_

The hands ran through my hair, which was somehow free of any tangles. It was so warm here, comforting and protected... I felt nearly drowsy from the contact. It was as if mum was stroking my head, holding me close as she used to do.

I felt my throat seize up and a strangled sob made the invisible person pause. My heart clenched and I curled up around it, now shaking as I finally let out the sorrow of knowing that my parents didn't love me anymore. They didn't want me. If I went missing, they probably wouldn't even notice that I wasn't there.

'_Emilia- do not feel sorrow. She loves you, as does he- and you will see them again.'_

An indescribable surge of emotions ran through me then, happiness and gratitude, suspicion and anger, some guilt at having gotten into this situation when I could have just backed off and left things well enough alone.

I missed them. Somehow, impossibly, I still cared about them. Those two people that had created me had raised me with love and devotion, one of the best sides of humanity. Though they had recently begun to ignore or even despise me, I now realized how much I loved them back. It had taken whatever _this_ was to realize that, but now that I knew it was there, the feeling threatened to overwhelm me.

I wanted to see them again. I wanted… to find out _why_.

'_Emilia.'_

'_Emilia.'_


	9. Chapter 9

My eyelids were bright, a really weird sensation for an organ that was closed off from the world when I was asleep. A pinkish-red, dark crimson and black, somehow combined in indescribable ways. I briefly wondered if my Art teacher would be pleased with my colourful (haha, get it?) description of waking up in the sunlight. It was really unpleasant to feel the sun on my face, so I threw up my arm and covered my eyes.

The darkness was deliciously soothing.

The fact that the sun was shining on not only my face, but on the rest of me, suddenly sunk into my consciousness. The sun shouldn't be shining on me. The sun should be behind my blinds, however battered and fail they were.

I opened my eyes cautiously and wished that I hadn't. The light was so intense, as if someone was shining a torch directly into my eyes. A headache started to pulsate somewhere behind my ears and I groaned, sitting up slowly with my arms wrapped around my head. The world was dark again. Comforting.

Something was stirring in my belly. A bad feeling of doubt and sudden worry. I realized that I had to know, in the same way that I had to find out who Conor was. I had to know what was around me.

Something was completely wrong.

I cracked my eyes open, millimetre by millimetre. The fuzzy black faded into colours and shapes- the origin of which astounded me. I'll have to describe what it looked like to you, and it'll take a while, so get ready for a doozy of an explanation.

The sunlight I'd been complaining about was golden and yellow, like a coating of melted butter over myself and everything around me. It shimmered in multicolours over my heated skin, quite pretty but not nearly as bright or powerful as my own Australian sun. I dismissed that and turned my attention to the ruins I appeared to be lying in.

I was inside of a broken, empty shell of what must have been a fairly old house. It was made of polished white stone- or used to be polished- that was now mouldy in the shadowed places and bleached in the sun-struck ones. The roof was completely gone- hence my now sunburnt arms- and blocky holes were missing in the ruin's walls, a few pale bricks of stone lying beneath some of them.

Something smelly was lying by my foot. It looked just like what my cat would leave on our welcome mat by the front door after a fun night. I nearly threw up as I poked it away with my foot, partially from the dead thing but mostly from my headache and the constant sunshine.

The floor shifted under me as I twisted around to stare at the closest wall. I looked down; a beige sack of coarse wool was lying beneath me, smelling like horse crap and looking very sorry for itself. I was too dizzy to get away from it, but the scent forced its way into my sinuses and clung there like a cat up a tree as I warily glanced up again.

The sky was a gorgeous bright blue, the sun a brilliant white beacon and the clouds a fluffy cream. A blue mist faded the clouds partially from sight, like the distant blue that hides mountains on the horizon of the Hunter Valley. No, I don't live there. You're not getting that out of me.

Anyway, I'd seen skies like that pretty much every day at home, so I didn't 'Ooooh' or 'Aaaaah' at it like a retarded tourist.

I did 'Oooh' at a bird that flew overhead and landed in an ungainly fashion atop the bare sun-struck walls. It looked at me with that weird, jerky way that birds have and honked loudly. I jumped about a mile and the bird scrambled into the air again. Stupid animal. It freaked itself out by landing next to me. I wanted to toss a pebble in revenge, but my head swam again and I focused on standing up.

The ground was cool, like stone, but the dust lying over it was heated until it burnt my palms. I stood as quickly as I could, levering myself up without my usual ease. The world tilted when I was this high up, so I leant against the closest wall and ignored the swooping in my stomach.

The bird from before joined up with a v-formation of the same kind of birds, and they all honked as if in greeting.

I'd never seen that kind of bird before.

Where the hell was I?


	10. Chapter 10

**I am so sorry! I've had this chapter ready for AGES now, but life literally got in the way. And for this long, too! Thank you so much to everyone who's been checking back, and I can tell that you have done, looking at the views meter. Sorry about how short this is, but I promise, I'll do my best to keep uploading when time permits.**

I sat down rather suddenly, all spare energy gone from my useless effort to see over the wall. Confusion and some random spurt of anger made the world shake far more than dizziness had done, so I decided to do the smart thing for once and wait until I felt better. Gradually, as the sun moved across the sky and shadows lengthened on my legs, my head cleared. I took in a breath and stood up very slowly in order to see through a nearby hole that was overgrown with moss and some bad-smelling mushrooms.

It was a little high for me; as I mentioned, I'm not the tallest of people. I found a piece of rubble and dragged it slowly below the hole, using it as a stepping-stone to glance at the ground outside.

Before I could stop them, my eyes flew opened and pain flared in my head from sudden exposure to light. But I couldn't help it; guess what was outside?

A caravan of people marched along a road below that had nearly disappeared into the grass. Every one of them looked exhausted and filthy, their clothing little more than rags or, in the best case, a simple brown tunic on a young man that moved on determinedly next to a woman that looked much younger than he did. Though seemingly tired enough to give up and rest, not a single one of them did; not even one of the children. Their heads were held high and hands in fists as they battled their own weakness.

Each one was olive-skinned, most of them almost dark-skinned as well from exposure to the sun. Most had black hair and dark eyes that were entirely focused on the road before them. They were slim but tough, like bamboo sticks that bend and sway in the wind but refuse to break under pressure. I ducked down a little to keep them from noticing me, though they probably wouldn't have cared, in their state.

"What the hell? Where am I? I don't recognise any of these people!" I snarled under my breath, suddenly angry again. It really sucks to not know what's going on after you've been unconscious; anything could have happened while I wasn't awake. "As a matter of fact, they don't even look Australian. I can't see a beer belly anywhere." Sorry, but even I admit that's true.

Aside from the random caravan of people, the countryside looked incredibly... _different_. It looked sort of soft and leafy, mossy and green. It was quite pretty, if a bit tame. I couldn't imagine where I might be; a park, maybe, in some rich lady's personal garden? But why would a bunch of homeless people go marching through it? And what was with the cobbled road?

I felt my fingers slipping on the moss and I stepped down from the piece of rock to think. Luckily I was sort of calm under pressure, which they say is impossible to tell until you're in real trouble.

"Last thing I remember is... ow. Okay, before that. OW! No, wait, after. I'm probably not anywhere near home, probably nowhere near _Australia_ in that case. It looks sort of like Europe..." I trailed off, looking up at the hole. "I seemed to have teleported somewhere out of the country, if that's possible. ...By looking at a glowing box. God, I've gone insane, haven't I? And I should probably go see a doctor about possible brain damage."

Talking to myself is a bad habit.

Want to know why?

"I know a good doctor. I doubt he could diagnose _your_ case, however."


	11. Alert

Hello, past readers and perhaps present ones.

I am the author of this fanfiction- which, to my surprise, has garnered several reviewers and/or favourites.  
>The fact that so many people have responded to it is beyond my expectations, and really very touching.<br>This is why I have decided to continue trying to make this fanfiction work.

However, I won't do so on this particular story. I'm going to rewrite the whole thing, every 35,000 words of it, and it will be much better than anything I've written before.  
>This is to alert past readers to the fact that Transpose: Time will be rewritten, probably under a new name, and it will not be updated here.<p>

Thank you for reading. 


End file.
